Effective immediately, p.5
Effective Immediately, page 5
part #3 of The Agency Files Series
“I wouldn’t know. I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds intriguing.”
Lucy shifted, pulling the backpack onto her lap and wrapping her arms around it. “I don’t even know what I should tell you. I mean, I wouldn’t want to put you in any danger—if there is any. It’s probably nothing and I’ve just made a total fool of myself and lost my job because I misunderstood something.”
“Probably…”
His tone did little to reassure her. “Thanks.”
Rabbi Bieber laughed. “But what if you aren’t wrong? What if what you found is proof of something terrible? Shouldn’t you let people who know about these things make that decision?”
“They’re after me,” she blurted out. “I know it sounds melodramatic, but it’s true. I barely got out of the building before security guards were searching for me. But do they want to stop me from revealing DOD secrets to the police, or is it something more?” Lucy gazed into the man’s eyes and then laughed. “You think I’m a kid. Yeah, I guess you would,” she murmured. Digging into her purse finally produced her ID case, and she passed it to the rabbi. “I’m counting on that confidentiality thing here.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that you’re almost twenty-seven, no.” He laughed at the grimace she made. “Let me tell you a secret. I have a mother like you—petite and very youthful looking. At twenty, she looked ten. At thirty, she looked fifteen. By the time she hit forty, she’d decided that looking half her age wasn’t so bad. Now, she’s almost ninety. You’d never know she wasn’t pushing sixty. Skin like a baby and her hair still has streaks of color in it.”
“Great, so in another thirteen years, I can appreciate my youthfulness—if I live so long.”
The rabbi waited for her to speak again, but she didn’t know where to begin. Just as she started to say she’d go, he asked a question that rocked her emotional stability. “Are you usually prone to seeing things in an overly dramatic light?”
She closed her eyes and whispered, “No.”
“Do you really, deep down where no one but you could understand why you answer the way you do, do you really think what you found is ‘nothing’?”
She chewed her lip, tore at her fingernails, and refused to meet his gaze as she whispered, “No. I’m terrified because I believe that what I found no American—or at least no loyal American was ever supposed to see. But I don’t understand it all and that gives me hope that I’m wrong.”
The rabbi sat in contemplative silence that both soothed and rankled—something which Lucy found even more irritating. It’s like someone scratching you and then putting numbing cream on it before scratching you again. Just speak already. Then leave me in blissful silence. Yeah.
“One more question.” Rabbi Bieber waited for her nod before he asked, “Let’s say the worst happens—that this is really some kind of conspiracy against the US government or whatever you fear it to be.”
Lucy opened her mouth to explain that it would be deeper than that and shut it again. “Okay…”
“What happens to you? As a person, I mean. If whoever is responsible for it finds you, what do you think would happen?”
Until that moment, her panic had seemed overblown—ridiculous even. She’d tried to talk herself into going back, apologizing for being melodramatic about the whole thing. The rabbi’s question explained exactly why she hadn’t. She couldn’t. The very real fear of what an enemy of the US would do if they caught someone stealing sensitive documents that could prove it… “I’d be dead. I—yeah.” She closed her eyes and inhaled. “It’s not crazy to run then, is it?”
“Wait here.”
Lucy almost bolted at those words. Her hands gripped the backpack, and her feet shifted, ready to run. At a side door, the rabbi turned and smiled at her. “I have an idea, but I don’t have the card on me. I’ll put it on the bench there if you’re gone when I get back. I’ll leave it there until I close up tonight.”
“What is it—the card? What is it?”
“A safe place to go. I’ve only had to give one out before. Usually, you send people to the police for dangerous situations, but I think…” He stepped forward, as if to see her expression better. He nodded. “Yes, I think you need more than the police can offer. You can trust these people. Their job is the highest level of protection.” Lucy felt she must have looked skeptical, because Rabbi Bieber added, “The Secret Service could take lessons from them. They’re that good. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you walked into this synagogue today. I believe HaShem brought you here where you could find help to keep you safe.”
Lucy stared at the door the man disappeared behind. Is he for real? HaShem? Who’s that? It sounds almost Korean.
Every instinct demanded that she run, but the idea of a safe place tempted her much more than she would ever have imagined. Instead, she hid behind a silk bush-tree in the corner by the door and watched. I guess there are more advantages to being small than I like to think.
Rabbi Bieber returned and set a business card on the bench. “Tell them I sent you. Give them this card. They won’t trust you at first, but after they talk to me, they will.”
She stepped from behind the plant after deciding that if he’d wanted to trap her, she’d just made it really easy. “How’d you know I was still here?”
“The door didn’t open.”
Duh. “I guess that would give me away. I’m no good at this clandestine stuff.”
“Which is why you need the help these folks can give you. They are good. I’ve heard it intimated that the government uses them when they don’t think the US Marshals Service can provide adequate protection for a witness. But,” he added quickly, “that was my perception of what I thought they were trying to imply.”
She stepped forward and moved to retrieve the card, but Rabbi Bieber picked it up and handed it to her. “I will pray for you. If it’s ever safe to come back, I would love to know that you are okay—that you are well.”
“These people…” she waved the card before reading it. “They won’t tell you?”
The rabbi shook his head, smiling. “It wouldn’t be safe for you if I knew any more than I do already. Go. Be safe. I will pray for you.”
The sun blinded her as Lucy stepped from the building and glanced around her. In movies, people tracked their victims or criminals through credit or debit cards. Does Thornton-Weinbach have that kind of surveillance ability? How easy is it for someone out of law enforcement to do that, anyway? The questions tumbled through her mind as she scanned the area, trying to decide which way to go. Regardless, it would take a ride on the subway. Is my FastTrac traceable? Should I buy a token or save my cash?
By the time she reached the nearest subway station, Lucy made her decision. She pulled out her wallet, grabbed all the bills inside, and shoved all but two dollars into her pocket. The coin compartment held dimes, nickels—a quarter. Yes! One more, c’mon, baby. One more! She bypassed one, taking it for a nickel until it slid past her fingers. Score!
The wait on the platform sent her nerves on high alert. Every person who looked at her became the enemy in her mind. She held onto her backpack as if it contained her life itself. I guess it does, in a way. It might be bargaining power in a pinch. Probably not. They’d just shoot me. Maybe I should hide it and let them think it’s with someone who could leak it—nah. They’d just go after everyone I know. Should have left it with the rabbi. He could have gotten it to someone—maybe. Why put him in danger?
As she did each time the thought of danger arose, Lucy tried to talk herself out of the idea that anything could possibly be so bad, but this time she couldn’t. She shook so violently inside that she stared at her hand, waiting for the tremors to reach her fingertips, but they didn’t.
The train doors opened. Passengers nearly forced her in as they scooted past, vying for a seat. She stood with her arm wrapped around a pole and held fast to her position. A kid—couldn’t have been more than fourteen—smiled at her. Oh, please no. Just—no. Don’t do it. Don’t make me be rude.
She tried the tiniest of smiles and looked away. From the reflection in the corner mirrors, it seemed as though he watched her. The next stop blared over the speakers. Several people filed out while even more shoved in. Two stops later, she realized the kid sat on the seat closest to her now. Lucy tried to ignore him—pretend she didn’t see him at all. It didn’t work.
“Hi.”
She grunted something and stepped off the train at the next stop—eight blocks from where she needed to be. “Stupid kid. Messed that up for me.”
By the time she reached the building—a tall tower of glass and steel in the heart of town—Lucy was tired, thirsty, and ready to turn herself into anyone who might end the nightmare. Even a gunshot through the head sounded good for the dozen or so seconds it took for her thoughts to truly register. Snap out of it. C’mon. You’re not a quitter. You need food and this place… Lucy checked the address again. Here goes nothing. I’ve got no way to pay for this. Will they take payments? Credit card—if it’s not too much? And being protected is great, but I still have to have someone look at these papers. Will they take them to the FBI for me? CIA? Homeland Security? Shredder? That thought made her smile.
The lobby looked like any office building. A reception desk had a guard posted next to it, and the young man behind the desk looked like a college student. She stood just inside the door, her thumb and index finger worrying the corner of the business card she’d been given. The guard glanced her way and then paused, meeting her gaze. Lucy swallowed down the bile that rose in her throat, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
“May I help you?”
Lucy said nothing. With one last glance at the door, hoping she wasn’t about to make the worst mistake of her life, she slid the card across the desk and said nothing. The kid stared at it, frowned, and picked up a phone. “I need an escort in the lobby, please.” To Lucy, he simply said, “You can wait by the elevator. Don’t go up before Ms. Chen arrives.”
“Okay…” She jumped when the guard appeared on her right. “Oh!”
“This way.” He left her alone at the elevator but stood at the corner, just a few feet away.
I need water, she realized as her mouth dried so quickly she choked. This is horrible.
The guard appeared at her side with a cup from a water cooler just across the way—one she hadn’t noticed. “Um—thanks.”
“No problem, miss.”
The elevator dinged just as she crumpled the cup in her hand. A woman stepped out—Lucy’s antithesis. Tall, Asian—aren’t those mutually exclusive characteristics? she mused. Ms. Chen’s short, near-black hair contrasted oddly with the ruffled chiffon dress the woman wore. She’s a walking contradiction.
“I’m Emmy Chen. You are?”
Lucy swallowed, tried to speak, and swallowed again. “I don’t know if I should say.”
“That’s fine. I’ll call you Jan. It’s a little more modern than Jane. Come with me.”
The elevator stood open, waiting for her to follow, but Lucy couldn’t bring herself to step in. “Where are you taking me?”
“To a confidential room where you can tell one of our counselors how we can help you.”
The words sounded like code—one she was expected to know and didn’t. When understanding hit, she nodded. “Okay.” Never had it taken so much self-control to take three steps. As the doors closed behind her, she could feel the walls pressing in on her—choking her, stealing the very air she needed so desperately to breathe.
“Take a slow, deep breath.”
“I can’t,” she gasped.
“Then cough.” Lucy stared up at the woman, uncomprehending. The elevator seemed to spin instead of climb. “Cough!” Ms. Chen ordered.
Lucy coughed. The full intake of air afterward brought understanding. “Oh. I see. Wow.”
“It’s normal. I am more concerned with people who aren’t afraid to follow. It’s the first step in vetting a potential client.”
“I don’t have a lot of money. Do you take payments or—”
“Money isn’t an issue.” Ms. Chen held the door as it slid open. “We’re here to help, Jan.”
She stepped from the elevator and followed the woman down the hall, her eyes taking in every detail. I’ve learned today that you never know when you have to get out in a hurry.
Ms. Chen opened a door, held up a finger, and disappeared inside. A few moments later, she held it open. “Just making sure it’s clear. It should be,” she added, anticipating Lucy’s question, “but I never assume anything. Someone will be along shortly to hear why you’ve come. You made a wise decision accepting that card.” She started to close the door behind her but paused. “Oh, Jan—”
“Lucy. I’m Lucy.”
A smile formed on the woman’s face and disappeared so quickly that Lucy almost missed it. “Nice to meet you, Lucy.” She pointed to the corner of the room. “There are water bottles, yogurt, and fruit cups in the mini-fridge. Help yourself.”
While her attention was diverted by the promise of food and water, the door shut. A second later, Lucy heard it lock.
Chapter Six
Disbelief. Fury. Despair. All three hit her the moment she heard the click and realized what it meant. “Oh, no you didn’t!” Lucy grabbed the door, wrenching the knob with force that would have broken hers at home. “Aaaargh.” Her foot shot out and connected with the door before she could hope to stop herself. Her eyes smarted from the pain.
The wait began. The long, terrible wait that alternately bored her brain numb and gave her plenty of time to become even more panicked, continued. She tried to find a way out of the room, but even standing on the table, she was too short to see if the ceiling tiles were fixed or movable. Air vents proved too small for her, even with the chair on top of the table and her standing on top to try to reach them. This is one tall ceiling! Why did they build it like that? Of course, the answer was too obvious. To keep people like me exactly where I am.
Lucy eyed the mini fridge, wondering if it would make enough of a difference to risk setting it on the seat of the chair. Maybe for someone else, but not me. That thought sent her into survival mode. Okay, so they’ve locked me in. I’m a flight risk, apparently. So, that means they are either working with TW, or the rabbi is involved in some kind of scam. Pictures from a recent news article on trafficking in the US flashed in her mind. Don’t go there. They wouldn’t lock you in a nice room. Besides, it’s pointless. I’ve been pro-active, and if they have cameras… Lucy’s eyes swept the ceiling but only found one place that she thought might indicate a small camera. —probably do, too. Anyway, they’re watching me. Great. They’ve seen me working to get away. I’ve gotta play up the small, helpless girl thing, and I’ve been proactive about getting out. That’s not going to work. What now?
Before she could answer her own question, the door unlocked. Instinct sent her flying across the space of the room, head-butting the man in the doorway. He backed away without a word. She bolted down the hall, retracing the steps she’d taken with Ms. Chen to get there. The guard stood in front of the elevator doors with his arms crossed over his chest. “Let me in.”
“As soon as Mr. Semple says I can, I will.” He returned her glare with a smile. “He’s not going to hurt you.”
“They locked me in the room!”
“They can’t have strangers wandering the halls.”
Lucy added a scowl to her glare. “What do they have to hide?”
A voice behind her nearly made her jump to the much-lower ceiling. “You, for one thing. Please come back. If you prefer, I’ll send Salvatore down without you, and I’ll leave the door open.”
With a flight response kicking into overdrive, it took willpower she didn’t know she possessed to nod, ask Salvatore to follow her, and walk back to the room. “I want it open.”
“Salvatore cannot hear our conversation.”
“Why not?”
Semple waved the guard away and pulled out a chair for her. “For his protection and yours. People do not come to us without serious problems. Those problems, even in the hands of good people, can get others killed. Why don’t you tell me your story?”
Her first attempts came out as incomprehensible ramblings—even to her. She jumped up, grabbed a bottle of water, and chugged half. Semple nodded approval. “I recommend yogurt. Did you eat lunch? Breakfast?”
“Breakfast yes. Lunch no.”
He nodded and pulled out a phone. “What sounds appetizing?”
“A rewind to yesterday. I could eat that with my fingers.”
This time, the man smiled a genuine, amused smile. “I like you.”
“Thank you. You didn’t lock me in, so I don’t hate you.”
“Ms. Chen was merely doing her job—for everyone’s—”
“Protection,” Lucy muttered. “Yeah, I got that. Um, food. What’s available?”
“If we can get it, you can have it.” Semple began listing off restaurants in the surrounding area. “I recommend something with protein to sustain you.”
“That Chinese chicken salad you mentioned sounds good. How about that?” She reached into her pocket for the money she’d stashed, but Semple waved it back.
“We’re happy to provide you with food, Lucy.”
“Probably goes on my bill, huh? That’s another thing we have to discuss before I waste any more of your time—”
“And before you decide to trust us.”
She shrugged. “Yeah. That too. What’s this going to cost me?”
“We’re not worried about payment, at the moment. We’re concerned about keeping you safe until we can unravel what’s happening with you.”
As he spoke, Lucy shook her head. “Yeah, you might not be worried about it, but I don’t want to mortgage half my life—”
“So that you can have a life? If you walk out that door right now, what do you think will happen?”
“Just order food. Then I’ll talk.” As she heard her own voice, Lucy winced. “I’m sorry. That was rude. You just offered me food, and I became a demanding jerk. Sorry.”
